Sunday, February 23, 2014

"More Lovely Than Beauty"

"More Lovely Than Beauty"  (third draft)

Still
Still,
Still more mysterious is grace,
still more profound -
than Beauty, even she
even when her charms abound.
More arbitrary, Grace, more free
mistaken for insanity
so sovereignly, gratuitously
illogical for flesh to see.*

Nothing - disquiets like the quiet,
no 'thing' disturbs like 'nothing'.
but grace, disquiets as a debt
whose earnest 'interest', can't be met.

for we adults have well unlearned
receiving that which can't be earned
so we the 'creditees' do cry
and cannot look Thou in the eye
for fear of what Thou has to say
to tell us what we'd have to pay.

O fearful foolish Pharisee
(so says Peguy)
afraid of grace gratuity.
Beauty - least she can be bought
or sold,       
or wooed,   
or for her fickle favor, fought.
But grace - but grace
(oh bless my soul)
cannot be bargained or controlled.

We know from bits of history
though tentative toward mystery
that what we would want most to see
is that which seems to happen least

and that which we desire least
seems always then the case to be
for what we would most sure prevent
is history's habit happening next.

and Yet
the more thy grace is laid before us
His desire to restore us
how close the Devil is to sore us
"ifs" and "buts" his harping chorus.

and we, leave Christ still waiting for us.

instead of grace of gift retain
though He remain, yet we refrain
for not in absence do we wain
but in His presence we abstain
content with small withdrawal of pain
as long we need not trust again.

more lovely than beauty, is His grace
God better than we think He is
who gives not as we'd think to give
whose Life is more than what we live
before me thus, the children's task
to lack, to need, to want to ask.
instead of suffering's brief relief,
I pray reprieve of unbelief.









Friday, February 21, 2014

A Meditation on Psalm 63


Psalm 63


A psalm of David, when he was in the wilderness of Judah.

O God, you are my God—

it is you I seek!

For you my body yearns;

for you my soul thirsts,

In a land parched, lifeless,

and without water.

I look to you in the sanctuary

to see your power and glory.

For your love is better than life;*

my lips shall ever praise you!

I will bless you as long as I live;

I will lift up my hands, calling on your name.

My soul shall be sated as with choice food,

with joyous lips my mouth shall praise you!

I think of you upon my bed,

I remember you through the watches of the night

You indeed are my savior,

and in the shadow of your wings I shout for joy.

My soul clings fast to you;

your right hand upholds me.

But those who seek my life will come to ruin;

they shall go down to the depths of the netherworld!

Those who would hand over my life to the sword shall

become the prey of jackals!

But the king shall rejoice in God;

all who swear by the Lord shall exult,

but the mouths of liars will be shut!

 

1 A psalm of David, when he was in the wilderness of Judah.

A psalm from the wilderness – David speaks from his heart in a place, (from a place) of desolation.  The wilderness is the place of thirst, where man’s prowess cannot help him.  It is a place where the human being may lose his illusions of self-sufficiency, and also may find a quiet sanctuary in which he can turn to God in his inmost heart.  Perhaps the hearts of prophets (in a sense, all believers) are occasionally driven out into the desert – away from the noise of everyday things – so that they might hear the voice of God.  Our coming Lenten journey hopes to accomplish this, but it cannot happen sufficiently as a matter of mere form, of appearance and ritualistic gesture.  Man’s intentionality must be put to the test. 

As the desert removes man from his external preoccupations – he is now forced to make a choice.  He cannot immerse himself so easily in his imagination or hide from himself.  Everything is laid bare for the purpose of allowing him to make a choice to adore.  The spiritual desert does not imply a change of heart or a turning to God – for the desert is likewise the domain of demons and wild beasts.  Rather, it is here that masks are removed and reality takes shape amongst the sands.  The desert shall bring forth hunger and thirst – and man will be forced to decide in his naked freedom which way to turn.

So often times I am distracted and allured by that which does not satisfy.  Here may I be given the blessing of the desert. Sometimes it is only when all the other distractions are out of reach that my heart is willing to seek God.  As simple as it sounds, sometimes it is only the experience of God being all we have, that we realize that God is all we need.  In finding Him we discover the only thing that truly fulfills human beings.  Yet, this satiation is not the end of the spiritual battle.  From this fulfillment, my heart now satisfied so often fails to have the proper humility (and the heart of humility is gratitude).  Doing well, I am tempted to believe that I succeed by own strength, that I am happy because of my own holiness.  I fail to remember the words Deuteronomy 8:18: “Remember then the LORD, your God, for he is the one who gives you the power”.  Like Gomer (the wife of Hosea) I receive all the gifts of grain and the oil and the wine . . . and go right back to my lovers (idols) rather than turning to the one who is the source of all the good things.  

As St. Teresa of Avila says: “He who has God lacks nothing, God alone suffices”.  For this to be true, not only in fact but also in living faith, we must frequently approach God (or rather, be approached by God) in the wilderness - amidst trials and frustrations.  For God to suffice, (for God alone CAN suffice) we must be laid bare, without barriers, to encounter the true and living God, not merely our heavenly perceptions that we make in our own image.  Indeed, my idea of God cannot satisfy for it does not exist in reality.  The concrete reality of my need for God exceeds the capacity of my intellect or imagination.  (This is part of the divine genius of how man is designed.) All that can satisfy is the true God who is Mystery, who is beyond my ability to conceive, analyze, categorize or rationalize.  My heart needs a God that is greater that itself, a forgiveness that goes further than my sins, a love more rich than my poverty, and an abundance greater that the interior famine in which we find ourselves.  This idea leads directly into the next verse:

2 O God, you are my God-- for you I long! For you my body yearns; for you my soul thirsts, Like a land parched, lifeless, and without water.

For those who believe, who does not identify with these words? The desert in its dryness becomes a mirror for ourselves devoid of the life of the Spirit. We cannot escape our nature. Stamped into our very being is this insatiable longing for the infinite, the absolute, the Divine.  It is the need for Destiny (and destiny with a face).  The heart is a vessel, longing not only to be full but to overflow.  (This is how the love of God naturally flows to love of neighbor).  In body and soul we are confronted with our poverty, our need.  It takes great courage to express this need, an openness which dares an entreaty that it may be fulfilled.  

It is much easier (though inefficient and self-defeating) to try to address this need by creating idols in our own image.  Make no mistake, Man’s thirst for God is absolute and will drive his being one way or another.  Man must either a) deny or detach from this desire, or b) be in relationship with the living God, or c) try to replace Him in vain. Idolatry is a longing for God on our own terms.  Idolatry attempts to bring this thirst down to the level of human control, that one might avoid the natural condition of poverty.  Man attempts to replace God as the primary source for giving and receiving love, and to ‘liberate’ himself from being a dependent being.  But Jesus, on the contrary, tells us “Blessed are the Poor in Spirit”.  I cannot help but think in my efforts to the contrary that I embracing the curse.

How often do I think this way?  Chasing ghosts and shadows, I so often am misled to believe that some temporal thing might satisfy an eternal longing.  “This job, this new activity, this new friendship or romance, this new ministry, shall give me the peace and contentment that I crave”. Yet over and over they will fail to satisfy. Our nature is inescapable.  We need bread and water to survive mortally, and Christ’s “living water” and “bread of life” to survive spiritually.  Here is the wisdom of the desert, that those who live in the wilderness value water, not gold. Christ asks us: “Why do you labor for that which is not bread?” Jesus also told us not to work for food that spoils, but for the food that will last for eternal life.  In this he asks us to come and receive what will actually satisfy the cravings of the heart.  One can imagine Jesus PLEADING with us:

“Come to ME, you who are weary and find life burdensome.  Come to ME, and I will give you rest.  I am meek and humble of heart, and I will give you rest for your souls.  I know you better than you know yourself.  Come to ME.  I alone have the words of Eternal life, and I have come to breath them into your souls. Please, come to ME, as I want to give you rest”

 

 

3 So I look to you in the sanctuary to see your power and glory.

“Lord, show me your face!”  This desire wells up from within us as we long for the Glory of the Lord.  Where do we get such temerity to make demands of the divine majesty that surpasses all understanding, who holds the very earth in his hands?  Indeed, our boldness is born out our faith which He planted within us!  As St. Augustine writes: “You have made us for yourself O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”  St Paul writes in Galatians that ‘As proof that you are children, God sent the spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying out, “Abba, Father”’. Mindful that merciful God created us to be in relationship with Him, let us not be ashamed of our needs like a child needing its parent’s arms.  Let us treasure and honor that gift of faith given so that we can ask in confidence.  Let us not be ashamed of the way we are made.  Let us follow our need for love, like following a stream to its source,  knowing that gift of faith given reassures us of our Father’s desire that we should both ask and receive.

Where shall we look?  In the sanctuary, the Holy place set apart.  In God all things are held together, for in Him all things consist.  The Sanctuary is that place where our hearts become aware that God is all in all. It is the place where we see how all things come together in God.  It is precisely here, in this recognition, that we become “set apart”, “sanctified”.  For in seeking Him as source of life, we shall find Him abundantly recognizing Him in all things held together.

4 For your love is better than life; my lips offer you worship!

Only here in the Old Testament is anything prized above life--in this case God's love. In the lips that offer worship, one confesses with the mouth what one has been given in faith.  Faith organically bears fruit – just as growth is the natural response to water and sunlight.  His love is better than life, for what is life without the source of life?  For our life to have meaning, we must be in love with life, with the one who is LIFE itself. 

Should we be surprised when someone longs for death if they are feeling there is no more love in his life?   What is life without meaning, without purpose, without destiny?  What consolation has man, if there is nothing greater than himself, nothing above him to worship, to adore?  This question goes to the very nature of the human being, the level of nature where reality becomes aware of itself.  It is the question of ultimate vulnerability, ultimate need for something, for someone other, above. It is this love that is better than life, and it is THIS love that even our mortal life should not be prized above it. 

The witness of the martyrs testifies to this truth.  “Love for Life did not deter them from death”.  Indeed, rather than blind fanaticism, martyrdom can be the most reasonable thing in the world.  Love for this passing life did not deter them from holding fast to eternal life.  They cling to that which is most valuable.  This is wisdom.  Heroism here is the holding fast to the Truth and offering true worship through blood.  They have made the reasonable choice of the imperishable treasure, in testimony to Christ’s words: “The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure buried in a field, which a person finds and hides again, and out of joy goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.” Mat 13:44

5 I will bless you as long as I live; I will lift up my hands, calling on your name.

In Worship, we plug into a presence that is not us.  And we need that Other.  We must Bless the Lord.  What else can we do, save stretch our hands and call upon the name of the Lord?  Do we dare stretch out our hands? Do I dare to come to God as I am , Blessing Him as a beggar, longing for him to fill me with his presence?  Everything is right here, not for the taking, but for the asking.  I have stretched out my hands. Who can be saved?  What is impossible for man is possible for God.  We want the impossible. This is why, since we can't give it to ourselves, all our hope lies in having outstretched hands.  Just as we did not give ourselves our existence, we cannot by ourselves provide the meaning.  The question of meaning brings us to the moment where we must stretch out our hands.  For if there is meaning, than by definition we cannot create it for ourselves, as we did not create ourselves.  We need to be present to the presence, and have the Presence become present to us.

Thus, it is more reasonable to humbly admit that Man cannot provide meaning for himself.  Man’s dignity is preserved when he does not allow the deepest desires of his heart to be marginalized. This desire is met through the stretching out of our hands, the act of the prayer.  Prayer ceases to be a means to an end, for prayer (as union with God) becomes the end in itself, and the veiled experience of heaven on earth.

6 My soul shall savor the rich banquet of praise, with joyous lips my mouth shall honor you!

In the act of praising God, God himself becomes present.  The joy of praising God (though this is a joy in and of itself) primarily comes from the reality and realization of the present God who loves us.  I praise God, and have joy in praising him, because of the Mystery present to me, within me. Too often I fail to allow myself to meet the Mystery, and yet, its mysterious presence gives me a peace and sense of totality that helps me to become aware of reality in all of its factors.  His praise manifests his abundance, a banquet of all delight, which in turn multiplies upon itself deserving ever greater praise.

7 When I think of you upon my bed, through the night watches I will recall

Is there any greater sweetness than to lie comforted upon one’s bed praying and being in union with God?  What greater consolation than the protection and presence of the Lamb, to allow him to hold as you rest?

 

8 That you indeed are my help, and in the shadow of your wings I shout for joy.

He has indeed been our help, and this help is our joy.  He has covered us in our weakness, covered us in our nakedness, and covered us in our shame.  In this place of being protected, affirmed, pitied in our nothingness, we are filled with gratitude and long to give ourselves totally to the love in which we find ourselves enveloped.  We long to return to our original nakedness (where we can be vulnerable without shame) and held in intimate embrace.

9 My soul clings fast to you; your right hand upholds me.

My soul clings to the Lord, and it is by HIM that I may stand.  I am not the source of my own strength.   My Beloved desires to commit himself to that need in which I live.  My constant need allows me to relish in his constancy.

10 But those who seek my life will come to ruin; they shall go down to the depths of the earth!

Those who seek my life will come to ruin as I am taken up into his gaze. I know that everything that does not dwell within His presence shall pass away.  “He shall anoint my head with oil in the presence of my enemies” (Psalm 23).  In clinging to the infinite, my soul shall rejoice in the land of the living.  Those who seek my life, (those without mercy) place themselves outside of mercy, and will descend to the depths in their folly of separation.

11 They shall be handed over to the sword and become the prey of jackals!

A House divided against itself cannot stand.  What then shall become of the human being who is divided against himself?  Without loyalty to himself (his need for God) Man thus divides himself and makes an enemy of God and himself.  Without secure foundation, they shall be unbalanced and cut themselves with the sword and tear themselves to pieces.

12  But the king shall rejoice in God; all who swear by the Lord shall exult, for the mouths of liars will be shut!

They shall exult who trusted in the Lord’s faithfulness.  Those who praise the Lord do not wait for vindication, for it has already been granted in the gift of faith.  They need not retribution, but rejoice in the coming of the Sun of Justice, exulting in a mystery beyond all they could have hoped to understand or attain.  Christ has come and lies can be spoken no more.  Emptiness has been overturned, and death has been swallowed up. Those without truth shall have nothing to say, for no shadows can be cast in the light. Let me desire that all may share in this faith, to the Glory of God the Father. 

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Son, I beseech you, don't sleep any more by Michel Quoist

Son, I beseech you, don't sleep any more

by Michel Quoist

"I shall be in agony till the end of time," God says.
I shall be crucified till the end of time.
My sons the Christians don't seem to realise it.
I am scourged, buffeted, stretched out, crucified. I die in front of them and they don't know it, they see nothing, they are blind.
They are not true Christians, or they would not go on living while I am dying.

Lord, I don't understand; it is not possible; you exaggerate.
I would defend you if you were attacked.
I would be at your side if you were dying.
Lord, I love you!

That is not true, God says. Men are deluding themselves.
They say they love me, they believe they love me, and, as I am willing to admit, they are often sincere, but they are terribly mistaken. They do not understand, they do not see.
Slowly everything has been distorted, dried up, emptied.
They think they love me because once a month they honour my Sacred Heart.
As if I loved them only twelve times a year!
They think they love me because they keep to their devotions regularly, attend a benediction, eat fish on Fridays, burn a candle or say a prayer before a picture of my Sacred Heart.

But I am not made of plaster, God says, nor of stone nor of bronze.
I am living flesh, throbbing, suffering.
I am among men, and they have not recognised me.
I am poorly paid, I am unemployed, I live in a slum, I have tuberculosis, I sleep under bridges, I am in prison, I am oppressed, I am patronised.
And yet I said to them: "Whatever you do to my brothers, however humble, you do to me"...Thats clear.
The worst is that they know it, but that they don't take it seriously.
They have broken my heart, God says, and I have waited for someone to have pity on me, but no one has.

I am cold, God says, I am hungry, I am naked.
I am imprisoned, laughed at, humiliated.
But this is a minor passion, for men have invented more terrible ordeals.
Armed with their liberty, formidably armed with their liberty,
They have invented...
"Father, forgive them; they do not know what they are doing."
They have invented war, true war.
And they have invented the Passion.

For I am everywhere that men are, God says,
Since the day when I slipped among them, on a mission, to save them all.
Since the day when I definitely committed myself to trying to gather them together.

Now I am rich and I am poor, a workman and a boss.
I am a Union member and a non-Union member, a striker and a strike-breaker, for men, alas! make me do all kinds of things.
I am on the side of the demonstrators and on the side of the police, for men, alas! transform me into a policeman.
I am a leftist, a rightist and even in the centre.
I am this side of the Iron Curtain and beyond.
I am a German and a Frenchman, a Russian and an American,
A Chinese from Nationalist China and one from Communist China,
I am from Vietnam and from Vietminh.
I am everywhere men are, God says.

They have accepted me, they possess me, the traitors!
Hail, Master!
And now I am with them, one of them, their very selves.
Now, see what they have done to me...
They are scourging me, crucifying me,
They tear me apart when they kill one another.
Men have invented war...
I jump on mines, I gasp my last breath in foxholes,
I moan, riddled with shrapnel; I collapse under the volley of machine-gun fire,
I sweat men's blood on all battlefields,
I cry out in the night and die in the solitude of battle.
O world of strife, immense cross on which, every day, men stretch me.
Wasn't the wood of Golgotha enough?
Was this immense altar necessary for my sacrifice of love?
While around me, men keep on shouting, singing, dancing, and, as if insane, crucify me in an enormous burst of laughter.
Lord, enough! Have pity on me!
Not that! it isn't I!

Yes, son, it is you.
You, and your brothers, for
several blows are needed to drive in a nail,
several lashes are needed to furrow a shoulder,
several thorns are needed to make a crown,
and you belong to the humanity that all together condemns me.
It matters not whether you are among those who hit or among those who watch, among those who perform or among those who let it happen.
You are all guilty, actors and spectators.
But above all, son, don't be one of those who are asleep, one of those who can still fall asleep...in peace. Sleep!
Sleep is terrible!
"Can you not watch one hour with me?"

On your knees, son! Do you not hear the roar of battle?
The bell is ringing,
Mass is starting,
God is dying for you, crucified by men.

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

“Hope Measured in Inches”

“Hope Measured in Inches”


Mama had to mostly trust Jesus with the garden,
due to unreasonable water rates.
The summer drought had her tomatoes on the brink,
the rain-gauge dry as desert sand,
empty of all but expectation.

Day by day the hope of rain,
has Mama hobbling in the heat,
bad back yet efforts undeterred,
a few precious cups to keep alive
what arid luck has failed to sustain.

“Gardening lets me measure hope in inches” Mama says.
Smiling in faith under her “outdoor church” hat.
She ignores the weather-man’s dreary prophecy
and eagerly awaits,
a Pentecost of water.

Monday, February 3, 2014

Eschatology, Vocation, and Social Justice


What is the Goal of our Life?
            To live with God forever.
Who Gave us Life?
            God.
Why?
            Because God Loves Us.
What is the purpose of our response?
            So that His life may flow into us without limit.
What are the things of this world?
            Gifts from God.
Why are they given?
            To know God more easily and make a return of love more readily.
So what do we choose?
            We choose whatever leads to God’s deepening his life in us.


 “[A society such as ours] based on Darwinian ‘survival of the fittest,’…has serious           disadvantages.  It promotes a strong aggressive attitude and the need to win.  It can paralyze the development of the heart, prevent health cooperation among people, and promote rivalry and enmity.  It tends to marginalize those who are weak and even those who reject individualistic principles and want to live in a society based on truth and justice for all.”
-          Jean Vanier

"Enter by the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is easy, that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard, that leads to eternal life, and those who find it are few . . . Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?' And then I will declare to them, 'I never knew you”
 - Matthew 7:14-15, 21-23

“And I would have thee known that just as every imperfection and perfection is acquired from Me, so is it manifested by means of the neighbor.  And simple souls, who often love creatures with spiritual love, know this well, for, if they have receive My love sincerely without any self-regarding considerations, they satisfy the thirst of their love for their neighbor equally sincerely.  If a man carry away the vessel which he has filled at the fountain and then drink of it, the vessel become empty, but if he keep his vessel standing in the fountain, while he drinks, is always remains full.  So the love of the neighbor, whether spiritual or temporal, should be drunk in Me, [that the vessel of love shall always be full] without any self-regarding considerations.

-St. Catherine of Sienna


“And some one said to him, "Lord, will those who are saved be few?" And he said to them, "Strive to enter by the narrow door; for many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able. When the householder has risen up and shut the door, you will begin to stand outside and to knock at the door, saying, 'Lord, open to us." He will answer you, ‘I do not know where you have come from’.”

- Luke. 13:23-25.


Whenever questions of “social justice” are brought up, one’s attention frequently turns to the famous passage from the Gospel of Matthew – The Judgment of the Nations.  Here is Christ’s discussion of the Eschaton – the day of the Lord.  Eschatology is the perspective of life viewed from eternity, the perspective from which all men must stand before the throne of God.

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit upon      his glorious throne, and all the nations will be assembled before him. And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.  He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father.      Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.  For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.’

Then the righteous will answer him and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink?  When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you?  When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?’ And the king will say to them in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.’

Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire   prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was      thirsty and you gave me no drink, a stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and    you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.’

Then they will answer and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?’ He will answer them, ‘Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.’

Matthew 25: 31-46.

This passage from Matthew’s Gospel has become very familiar over the years, like many well-known passages of Scripture.  Often, this Gospel passage is compared with a famous story from the Gospel according to St. Luke, The Parable of the Good Samaritan.

There was a scholar of the law who stood up to test him and said, “Teacher, what must I   do to inherit eternal life? Jesus said to him, “What is written in the law? How do you read         it?” He said in reply, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all            your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as    yourself.” He replied to him, “You have answered correctly; do this and you will live.”

But because he wished to justify himself, he said to Jesus, “And who is my            neighbor?”

Jesus replied, “A man fell victim to robbers as he went down from Jerusalem to Jericho.   They stripped and beat him and went off leaving him half-dead. A priest happened to be going down that road, but when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side.  Likewise a Levite came to the place, and when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. But a Samaritan traveler who came upon him was moved with compassion at the sight. He approached the victim, poured oil and wine over his wounds and bandaged them. Then he lifted him up on his own animal, took him to an inn and cared for him. The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper with the instruction, ‘Take care of him. If you spend more than what I have given you, I shall repay you on my way back.’

Which of these three, in your opinion, was neighbor to the robbers’ victim?”  He    answered, “The one who treated him with mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do       likewise.”   

Luke 10: 25-37

We’ve heard this before, haven’t we?  How quickly, when we hear these passages, do we begin to tune out?  We’ve heard it before, we know what this is and we know where it’s going.  Soon the meaning is lost amidst repetition and familiar sentiments.  How many times have we heard, “What you have done to the least of these you have done to me”?  How many times have we heard the Parable of the Good Samaritan?  We have heard these stories, and we will hear them again and again.  We file away the message amidst the many other things we know we’re supposed to do.  After all, we get it, God wants us to take care of the poor and the needy, the sick and the suffering, the widow and the orphan.  Who doesn’t know that by now?  And yet, the teaching has often lost its force, its sense of urgency, its sense of being an imperative, a command.  Instead, it has become another thing our “to-do list” that is often de-prioritized in order to accommodate whatever is in front of us.  We will help the poor when we are able, we will help our neighbor when it’s convenient, when we’re not too busy.  Yet, Father Michel Quoist reminds us, amidst our business, that…

If, where the Father has placed us, we do not fight with all our strength against the world      in disorder, we are not real Christians.  We do not love God.  For he said it through St. John: “If he does not love the brother whom he has seen, it cannot be that he loves God whom he has no not seen” (I John 4: 20); and, “My children, love must not be a matter of words or talk; it must be genuine, and show itself in action” (I John 3: 18).  But it isn’t simply improving the look of a man’s face that a Christian can bring peace to his conscience; it is by finding and tackling all the social and moral disorders which have produced that face. 

The poor will judge us.”

            The Spirit consistently reminds us of the danger of thinking we have all the time in the world.  Any day could be our last.  Accidents and Tragedies can happen.  We may read Matthew Chapter 25 in anticipation of our judgment that may come at any time, and everyone will be asked to give an account for his/her actions.  The fear of hell may persuade many to re-prioritize their lives to help the poor, but I am reminded of a passage from the 1st Letter of Saint John.   “There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear because fear has to do with punishment, and so one who fears is not yet perfect in love.  We love because he first loved us.” - 1st John Chapter 4:18-19
Americans often have a very superficial understanding of Christianity, and a very shallow understanding of concepts like Heaven and Hell.  Heaven is often understood in the classic Roman/pagan sense, the good place where the good people go to be re-united with their family and friends for food and fun.  Hell is the place for the bad people, the worst people, where the murderers, rapists and child-molesters finally get what’s REALLY coming to em’.
When we reduce Christianity to this consequentialist understanding, it becomes little more than a cosmic game, and we adopt an attitude towards our religious life that conforms to the rules of a game.  The attitude could be best described thus: “What’s the least I have to do in order to get to heaven, and what’s the MOST  I can get away with without going to hell?  Yet what is necessary (Love), and real relationship with Jesus Christ – does not (and cannot) fit within this framework.  A framework, (I might add) that is still trapped within selfishness.
The question of heaven or hell is not a merely matter of punishment and reward (which can place one’s gaze and energies entirely on the self).  Rather, relationship with Christ is meant to open us up to an Other, and not only for the sake of how it will affect oneself later.  Clearly put, there is no authentic Christian morality without solidarity with one’s fellow human beings, and only in the present, right now (which has an eternal significance) can we live the Gospel in reality.  The eternal stands present at every moment, touches every moment.  Without this mystical union between the present and the eternal reality, human freedom would lack all seriousness.  Thus we must be brought to the eschatological realism (the presence of eternity) that defines the current moment.  Eternity touching the present also points to an ever present Christ who stands before us as neighbor, judge, and Savior. 
Hans Urs Von Balthasar forcefully reminds us, “It is therefore indispensable that every individual Christian be confronted, in the greatest seriousness, with the possibility of his becoming lost.”[1]  Our salvation must not be taken for granted, (lest we in our ingratitude forfeit the gift) but worked out, as St Paul reminds us, with “fear and trembling” (Phil 2:12).  Joseph Ratzinger (now Benedict XVI) famously writes:

          "For the Saint, ‘Hell’ is not so much a threat to be hurled at other people but a challenge    to oneself. It is a challenge to suffer in the dark night of faith, to experience communion with Christ in solidarity with his descent into the Night. . . . Hell is so real that it reaches right into the existence of the saints. Hope can take it on, only if one shares in the suffering of Hell's night by the side of the one who came to transform our night by his suffering. Here hope does not emerge from the neutral logic of a system. . . . It must place its petition into the hands of its Lord and leave it there[2].


            What is Heaven?  Simply put, heaven is the indescribable bliss of union with God.  It is to become totally immersed in God yet without losing one’s individuality.  In God, the human person is totally affirmed as Other, but totally consumed in love as union.  The image of God in marriage, that two become one flesh, remains the primary theological image for heaven, as two persons now share in one life.  Hell, simply put, is separation from God.  The infinite suffering of hell (far worse than any descriptions of sulfur and flames) is eternal separation from the greatest good – the total loss of love.  Regardless of any artistic and ironic tortures the poet Dante might imagine, the words “eternal punishment” should be more than enough to give pause to any reasonable man. 
            The universal call to holiness is that we should know, love and serve God.  This calling is meant to enrich this life and lead us into the fullness of the next.  This establishes our focus and attention on our neighbor – who stands in the place of God for us to love and serve.
            Social justice, while it should consider the dignity of the other, should be desirable now not only for the sake of the other, but for our own sake, and not just in our sense of the future.  The eschatological viewpoint touches us right now, in this moment, in every moment.  With the service we render to our fellow human beings, we are opting for (or against) union with God in the present moment.  “What you have done to the least of these you have done to me” (Mat 25) or “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute ME?” (Acts 9:4).
            The Christian life proposes not only happiness in the hereafter, but a greater fulfillment in this present age.  It shockingly proposes that union with Christ, even in the lowliest of service, even in suffering, is a reward of joy that outstrips all possible human pleasure.  In service to our fellow man, especially the lowest of the low, we can experience an intimacy with Christ that is nothing short of the manifestation of Divine Glory.  It is grace through matter, sacramental in essence, the richness of faith fully alive.  When Jesus says, “Do this and you will live” – he is not only speaking of life as an avoidance of punishment, but pointing us towards a greater fullness of life and the actualization of our humanity.
            Saint Catherine of Sienna once dictated the Lord speaking to her thus:

            I require that you should love Me with the same love with which I love you.  This indeed you cannot do, because I loved you without being loved.  All the love which you have for             Me you owe to Me, so that it is not of grace that you love me, but because you ought to do so.  While I love you of grace, and not because I owe you My love.  Therefore to Me, in person, you cannot repay the love which I require of you, but I have placed you in the midst of your fellows, that you may do to them that which you cannot do to Me, that is to say, that you may love your neighbor of free grace, without expecting any return from him, and what you do to him, I count as done to Me[3].

           
            We may see in this passage a heavy obligation placed upon us.  But if we look at it in the eyes of love, the eyes of faith, we see a wondrous and glorious opportunity.  We are given the chance to love our Lord in the same manner as which he loves us.  We are given the opportunity to offer ourselves in the greatest depth, in the most complete of ways.  This is the way of love, the “narrow door” (Lk 13:24), the way of the cross – of complete self-gift. 
            Man finds his dignity in service.  It is not only “in giving that we receive” (St. Francis) but in giving that we are received.  The human heart, which longs for communion, longs for an other  to respond – finds itself always searching towards a presence that may provide the meaning for its search. It is in service that we see the face of God, and how divine that dwells within us may be seen.  The heart longs not for theories but for truth.  The heart seeks love not in the abstract, but in the concrete.  Not in the ethereal, but in the tangible.  Not in the hypothesis, but in the invitation and proposal of a person standing before us. 
            To say we belong to Christ, is essentially to say also that we belong to the Church.  This is not a belonging that translates to slavery or ownership.  It is the belonging Koinonea, a familial intimacy which says – “we are meant to journey towards happiness together, to know, love and serve one another each according to his gifts, with each his Beloved and indispensable place.  We are all sons and daughters of the King, meant to serve and in turn to be served”.
            Our neighbor is the gift through which we may tangibly encounter God.  We encounter God when someone else takes our humanity (our need, our heart) seriously, and we discover our own divine design (our God given identity) when we or someone else takes our own humanity seriously.  Hence, it is an imperative that we take our humanity seriously right now, that we take our happiness seriously now, so that we may experience the fullness of Christ now, not only in this age but eternal life in the age to come.  Hell is the continuation of our choice for isolation.  Heaven is the continuation and fulfillment of our relationship with Christ.




[1] Han Urs Von Balthasar, “Dare We Hope?” 85.
[2] Joseph Ratzinger, Eschatology Death and Eternal Life. Part Three.“The Future Life”: Ch. 7
[3] St Catherine of Sienna, Treatise on Discretion, “On Love of Neighbor”

“Other Bodies”

an old poem I've dug up.

I feel my Body,
            it is filled with hunger.
            hungry for touch.
            hungry for love.
And I wonder,
do these other bodies
            those other persons
            do their bodies feel like mine?

I walk down the street,
            searching the sights,
            mining my thoughts,
            and see these bodies not my own.
With naked eyes and pregnant memory,
            incarnate with feeling.

Young children radiant with innocence.
Prostitutes soiled with loneliness.
Workers reek of exhaustion.
gluttonous belch indigestion.
Playboys so perfumed with charm,
homeless sit saturate in shame.
cripples broken with bitterness.
AIDS patients shivering feverish
crazies sit ranting delirious
Slumchildren with “shiners” and bruises,       
forage for food - misplaced in the garbage.
                                                                       
I see bodies.
Seeing only in part.
Revealed but in part.
The persons expressed,
            expressed only in part.
What then is there that bodies be?
What being beneath do they convey?

Radiant, soiled, reeking, belching, perfumed, saturated, broken, and shining.

All these tangible and yet,
            I have no sixth sense to express.
The famine under inwardly I groan.
wondering, how do others look at me?
            at me
            hungry
            with naked eyes and pregnant memory
            incarnate with feeling.

“Earth, Hearth, and Water”



An earthen man,
            I take my stand,
            to live and laugh upon the land.

I feel the earth.
            am made of earth,
            and one day shall return to dirt.

I long for earth,
            to feel the earth,
            to tread the clay of which I’m made.

I need the earth,
            embrace the earth,
            in love to sow what lies below.
                       
Earthen Passion, Life to urn,
            Jars of Clay and earthen Heart,
            Clay afire to Furnace burn
            Flame to ashes, earth to Hearth.

I long to press on earthen sand.
            to greet Soft dust beneath my feet
            Clinging, sticking as I stand.
            grounded to ground and stable beneath.

So Rooted, grounded, in the earth.
            yet yearning…longing for rebirth.                  [recitation should pause here]

I kneel to earth, and make my pleas.
            That Thou forgive my lack of ease
            When thee, who call and beckon me
           

            to walk upon the sea.